It’d fade with time, but given how much power had been in that ritual, there’d always be a remnant. Their magic and energy entwined, written in the earth and trees, the stars and sky. Centuries from now, a mage might walk through this clearing and sense those traces, just as Elijah sensed, under everything else, that this was the clearing where Victor’s ancestors had first made the pack wards, had first used their bond to create the latticework that spiraled outward from this central point.
